


To Be Wanted

by Kyluxtrashpit (ApostateRevolutionary)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: (as in they're both happy with it not that it's necessarily healthy), Anal Sex, Armitage Hux is Not Nice, Choking, Collars, Consensual Violence, Crying, Dom/sub, Dominant Armitage Hux, Facials, Happy Ending, Identity Issues, M/M, Manipulation, Oral Sex, Ownership, Possessive Behavior, Post-Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker, Praise Kink, Rough Sex, Sadism, Scarification, Smut, Spit As Lube, Submissive Kylo Ren, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:34:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26458000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ApostateRevolutionary/pseuds/Kyluxtrashpit
Summary: Hux survived the fall of the Order and is now secretly leading what’s left of it, hoping it can one day be rebuilt. In the interim, though, he wants one thing: Kylo Ren, who he’s sure is still alive despite what the propaganda says, so he can kill Kylo himself. It turns out he's correct, but the man they bring him is far from the one Hux had known and expected. However, this man has his own issues, and Hux isn't one to let an opportunity slip him by.Or: a different interpretation of what it means for Kylo to return to being Ben Solo.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Armitage Hux/Kylo Ren
Comments: 20
Kudos: 207
Collections: Kylux Big Bang 2020





	To Be Wanted

**Author's Note:**

> And here we are, my fic for the kylux minibang 2020! I was fortunate enough to be paired with the wonderful [metastatiic](https://twitter.com/metastatiic) who provided some STUNNING art for this piece!
> 
> Please mind the tags on this piece but note that this is one of those 'the relationship is unhealthy but everyone is okay with it' sort of things. Twisted and fluffy feels are 100% the mood of this

Hux allowed himself a moment of satisfaction as he read over a report detailing the status of restoration of the Finalizer. It was nearly complete, just a little bit more work to do. After his time on the Steadfast following the battle of Batuu, Hux couldn’t wait to finally have _his_ ship back. It may have been retired, but Hux knew there was still value in it.

Everyone had thought him dead after Pryde had “executed” him, but Hux had always known that was not just a possibility, but rather an inevitability. As soon as it happened, Hux had his exit strategy ready. It had stung to leak information to the Resistance, but he had known the only way out was to let the Final Order fall; it needed to in order for him to take back control. He’d pitted his two enemies against each other and hoped for the best, and everything had worked out exactly how he’d hoped.

The Final Order was destroyed and the Resistance believed themselves victorious, not realizing that some of the First Order still remained. The full might of the fleet had never been dispatched to Exegol, many ships instead remaining at their posts while Palpatine’s ships had fallen, ready and waiting for the taking once Ren and Pryde and all the rest had perished on that Sith planet. They were ripe for the taking, just as Hux had known they would be.

All it took was one transmission from Hux, where he had hidden on a secretly cloaked transport, and the nearest Star Destroyer had picked him up, ready to rendezvous with the rest of the surviving fleet in the only safe place Hux had ever known: the Unknown Regions. The bulk of the First Order still remained there while a few rogue ships patrolled and gathered information. In the meantime, Hux wanted the Finalizer, _his_ flagship, and here he was, getting it back to space-worthy status.

Perhaps it was a touch of sentimentality, but Hux had time and he was patient; this newest incarnation of the Republic seemed to be just as foolish as the last.

Still, Hux knew it was very much possible that he wouldn’t be able to truly achieve the Order’s goals with what he had left, but he would _try_. He _had_ to try. And, if nothing else, he’d at least make the Republic _hurt_.

For now, though, Hux let himself enjoy any victory he could get, such as the Finalizer nearly being fully repaired. He clicked on the next unread report on the list, settling in for a long evening. Believed dead or not, the paperwork never ended. And, unlike Ren, Hux was the kind of leader who never delegated important tasks.

As Hux read, a new priority message came in and, upon seeing the title, Hux sat up, skipping all the reports in the middle and immediately opening it. Upon reading the contents, Hux paused, blinked, and then read it again, to be sure his eyes weren’t deceiving him. They weren’t. Hux’s lips curved up.

Shortly after taking control, Hux had assigned a particular team with a classified task. As far as everyone in the galaxy knew, Kylo Ren had perished on Exegol, though the reports on exactly how were up for debate. The official story was that he’d fallen in battle as the Supreme Leader of the Final Order, though the details were murky and thus rumours had spread, everyone making up their own version of the tale. Some even said he’d turned traitor at the last minute and sacrificed himself for the Resistance.

But something in Hux didn’t believe it. Kylo Ren, for how infuriating he was, was not someone who could be killed so easily. If not such a man of logic, Hux might have thought that Ren couldn’t be killed at all. He’d tried, after all. Multiple times. He wasn’t even sure if Ren knew.

Thus, Hux had sent a team out for the sole purpose of finding information relating to and the location of Kylo Ren. There was no one to question his actions now, so they’d gone, and after little but rumours, here they were. They had sightings. They had images. They had a _location_.

Hux had been right. He sent them a priority message back, instructing them to take him in, alive strongly preferred. While he might be sending them to their death, despite how highly trained and informed his team was, even that would confirm it, and then Hux could send whoever he needed. And besides, he’d given them the only set of Force-suppressing cuffs he’d ever successfully created.

It didn’t matter what it took; Hux _would_ have Kylo Ren and then he would make Ren pay for everything.

Suddenly invigorated, Hux worked through the rest of his messages in record time, but found himself unable to sleep. It was irrelevant, though. Soon, Ren would be his, and that was all that mattered.

* * *

When the team returned, they did so intact and didn’t look like they’d faced so much as a scuffle. Hux frowned pre-emptively; clearly they hadn’t found him. Even with their training and the cuffs, he knew Ren wouldn’t make it easy.

“We have him,” the team lead said, taking Hux aback.

“You’re certain?” Perhaps they’d brought back an extremely docile and convincing look-alike.

“There’s no mistaking it, sir. It’s definitely him.” The team lead was entirely confident in it, not even a hint of doubt in her voice. “He’s in holding cell 218.”

Still, though, Hux got the impression there was something they weren’t telling him. The rest of the team weren’t quite meeting his eyes, their attention elsewhere despite reporting to their superior. But with confirmation Ren was in hand, Hux was reluctant to push. After all, was there anything that could stain this victory?

“I’ll be visiting him soon,” Hux said, barely keeping his smirk contained. “Excellent job, all of you. Do remember, though, that if this is not, in fact, Kylo Ren, I’ll have to reconsider your usefulness.”

A chorus of ‘yes, sir!’ followed and Hux turned to go back to his quarters. He sincerely hoped that was merely for show and that they weren’t wrong, but it all just seemed… too easy. With anyone else, Hux would’ve thought it a trap, but guile wasn’t Ren’s way. No, if Ren wanted Hux dead, he would’ve killed his team, taken their ship, and returned in a flurry of Force and lightsaber to end Hux himself. Ren wouldn’t bother with a charade.

Hux considered whether to let Ren stew or to indulge his own eagerness and decided that Ren had been given more than enough time on the transport here. He gathered his kit, contemplating exactly what he was going to do to Ren. Executing him was the end plan, of course, but there were just so many _choices_ as to what to do with him in the interim, so many specialized and painful tools at his disposal. Hux couldn’t help grinning sharply.

As he walked to the holding cells, Hux wondered just what Ren had been up to all this time. He’d read reports of sightings, of course, but a sighting here and there did not actually give him much to work worth in terms of details. On top of that, there were the rumours, so few of which were likely true. Had Ren been imprisoned, slated for death, until one day the Resistance found the cell empty? Had he been living as a bounty hunter? Had he been trying to stir up his own remnants of the Order to take back control? Had he simply disappeared, lived in exile to avoid detection?

Had Ren truly defected at the last moment?

Hux would know soon enough, but still, his mind spun. Even after all these months, he’d never decided on what scenario he thought was most likely. Outside of the truly ridiculous ones, they all had a shred of believability, yet several reasons to discount them at the same time.

Arriving at the cell brought Hux out of his musings. He paused to look into the one-way window and Hux’s breath caught in his chest. Seated on the bed was a man Hux would recognize no matter what, that familiar and accursed long, dark hair, that broad frame, those pouty lips. There was no mistaking it: that was Kylo Ren.

It struck Hux then how improbable this all was, how he’d actually succeeded in this. Much as he’d been determined to, there had always been the possibility Ren was indeed dead, as the official story said, and that Hux was merely chasing vengeance against a ghost. Or, equally likely, was the possibility that he would find Ren but that he’d be unable to capture or contain him. But here he was, all Hux’s now. It was positively thrilling.

Hux watched him a while longer, savouring how momentous this point in time felt. Right now, Ren was sat on the bed, hunched over and looking blankly at the wall, hands in his lap, his hair not quite concealing his face. His face… there was something there, in his expression, that Hux didn’t quite recognize, a soft, aching sadness that didn’t fit with the version of Ren he’d known. Moodiness, sure, but this was… Hux couldn’t name what he was seeing. It was different.

Shaking his head a bit, Hux dismissed those thoughts. What did Ren’s mental state matter, anyway? He’d always been temperamental, prone to outbursts of emotion generally reserved for young children at the slightest provocation. Hux had been exceptionally good at handling him, considering Hux had survived under Ren’s rule. Whatever this was wouldn’t interfere with his plans, thus it didn’t matter. Ren was at _his_ mercy now.

Hux wasted no more time and turned to the door, entering his passcode and setting it to lock behind him, locked to any authorization except his own. He would not be disturbed. It was only as he entered the cell and the door swept shut that Hux realized he’d been too caught up to notice that Ren was not, in fact, wearing the shackles.

He didn’t have a chance to curse the team before Ren turned, his mouth dropping open in shock as he stood up. “Hux?”

“Ren,” he said calmly, coming to the unfortunate realization he’d have to be more cautious now that he knew Ren wasn’t as restrained as Hux had thought. “I see you survived Exegol after all.”

Ren gaped at him and Hux just waited, enjoying the satisfaction that came with throwing off a mind reader who sometimes had considered himself omnipotent. There was no anger there, though, just shock. Hux found it curious; he’d expected anger, at least at being captured, if nothing else.

When Ren finally spoke, his voice was soft and small, disbelieving, “I thought you were dead.”

“The Republic told the galaxy you were dead too, yet here you are,” Hux said, taking a step closer.

“I heard them, I read their minds. They were coming to bring me to you,” Ren mumbled, still staring at Hux like he was something… wondrous. “I didn’t believe them, but I wanted to know.”

Hux frowned, the feeling of something being off only intensifying the more Ren spoke. Even the cadence of his words was different, no longer sounding like there was a barely restrained beast inside him. And the – he’d known the team came on behalf of Hux? He’d _wanted_ to know if Hux was indeed still alive? Did that mean…?

“Is that why my team was oddly intact when they brought you here?” Hux asked, unable to contain the surprise in his voice. “Ren, did you come willingly?”

It was impossible, Ren had never done _anything_ willingly and yet he was nodding, too eager. “Yes. I needed to know if it was true, needed to see you.”

That did nothing to assuage Hux’s gut instinct that something wasn’t right. He couldn’t help a sinking feeling that this wasn’t the man he was looking for, the one who had tormented him, ruined his life – and yet, he was still certain this was indeed Ren.

Or, perhaps, this was what was _left_ of Ren after stars knew what had happened on and after Exegol.

Hux was about to start in on the speech he’d been rehearsing in his head for months in preparation for this moment, but then he noticed something else: “Ren, how is your scar gone?”

Ren blinked and looked _sheepish_. It wasn’t an expression Hux had ever seen on him before, his chin dipping down, cheeks slightly red. A strange kind of panic built up inside Hux. His gut feeling was right; this may have been Kylo Ren in body, but in spirit? Hux had no idea who he was dealing with.

“It’s a long story,” Ren said simply, unacceptably.

“Do you have anywhere else to be?” Hux asked, crossing his arms.

Ren ducked his head. “I guess not.”

And then he explained it all. How he’d been fatally wounded but then revived – not long after Hux had “died”, coincidentally enough. How the scavenger had healed him and an apparent hallucination that made him change his mind, decide that he didn’t want to continue down the path he’d been on for so long now.

Hux, for all the control he normally had over his expressions, couldn’t help but gape. Ren just continued, seemingly taking no notice, explaining Exegol, how he’d nearly died yet again, but had barely managed to cling to life. How he’d been left for dead, unsure what else to do with himself.

“The Resistance was gone, as was the Sith fleet. I thought the Order was gone too, since you…” Ren trailed off, shaking his head a little. “I found a working ship and left. I had another chance at life and I knew I had to do better this time. I still feel so much guilt.”

Ren took a shuddering breath, his eyes looking wet. “They always wanted me to be Ben. Maybe I can now. Kylo can’t make up for what I’ve done, but maybe Ben can. The Resistance didn’t want me around, since they left me for dead, but I knew there had to be some reason I survived. And you… I was wrong, Hux. If it was true you were alive, I knew I needed to find you and make up for what I did to you, how much I hurt you. Maybe this is what I’m still alive for.”

The look on Ren’s – no, _Ben’s_ – face was so earnest and pained, so unfamiliar, that Hux had to resist the urge to back away from him. This was so far from anything Hux could’ve expected. Hux had expected a disgraced, but still intact Kylo Ren, but this… This “Ben” was just a shadow of his former rival. How much of the man Hux had known was even left?

He thought about Ben’s words, about wanting to “make up for what he did”. Hux didn’t want to be ‘made up to’, he wanted to _take_ his deserved vengeance, not be handed it out of guilt. Anger flashed through him. How dare Ben think he could offer what Hux was already poised to take? Hux didn’t need his concessions; Hux had earned the right to his own form of reparations.

“You want to make it up to me?” Hux asked sharply, cruelly, and Ben just nodded, his eyes still shining. “All right, then you’re going to let me do whatever I want to you.”

“Anything,” Ben agreed, one tear slipping down his cheek, possibly from relief. “You can do anything if it’ll make things right.”

“Fine, then,” Hux snapped, taking the kit out from his pocket, pulling out a small scalpel, deadly sharp. “Sit back down and hold still.”

He stalked forward and took hold of Ben’s hair, tugging it sharply. Ben gasped softly but let it happen, his eyes locking on the tool in Hux’s hand. Hux brought it close, intending to replace Ben’s scar, make him look more like Ren again, and Ben watched, eyes wide and wet, but did as he was told and did not move. Hux should’ve felt powerful.

Hux brought it closer until it was against Ben’s skin, a small bead of blood welling up and still, Ben did nothing, just let it happen. Snarling, Hux pulled his hand away, cursing as he returned the tool to the kit. He went right for the door, snapping at Ben to stay put in his cell, and left, locking it behind him.

This wasn’t _right_ , Hux thought as he hurried back to his quarters. This wasn’t what it was supposed to be. He’d been expecting haughty resistance, not eager acquiescence, and it just wasn’t _satisfying_. Hux wondered briefly if it was a ruse, but he’d already concluded before that such guile was beyond Ren or Ben or whatever he was calling himself now.

He threw the kit on his desk, glaring at it, as if it was to blame for this. Hux didn’t know why Ben’s reaction troubled him so. It was as if Ben was stealing his vengeance from him by offering it freely. After all Hux had done to survive, all his sacrifices and work to get to this moment, to have Ben just hand him the victory he was moments away from taking for himself, the one he’d _earned_ … How _dare_ he!

Hux poured himself a drink, the strongest whiskey he had, and downed it all in one gulp. He sighed, savouring the burn in his throat. Perhaps he was overreacting. Just because the situation wasn’t playing out how he’d planned, that didn’t mean there wasn’t still opportunity within it. Hux had always been good at taking advantage.

Besides, he couldn’t let the man who’d once been Ren take anything more from him. Hux had lost enough and he was not going to allow Ben to take away his satisfaction, to rob him of it as he had robbed him of the galaxy. In truth, Hux should think of Ben’s willingness as a blessing. It certainly made things easier.

Hux downed another drink, feeling in control again, as he should. Yes, it was decided. He’d been thrown off by Ren’s change to Ben, that was all. He would still get his vengeance and he wasn’t going to let this shadow of his former rival steal his satisfaction from him.

* * *

Hux returned to Ben’s cell the next day, happy to let him stew for the night. The excitement Hux had felt before had returned, his resolve and sense of accomplishment fully restored. In retrospect, he felt foolish for letting anything, least of all some sob story from the man who’d taken everything from him, get in the way of that.

Ben looked up immediately after Hux entered, standing up and wringing his hands, eyes trained on Hux’s every move. So Hux’s sudden departure before had had an effect. That was good. Ben seemed to be even more transparent than Ren had been.

“Hux,” he said, then pressed his lips together. “I was worried. After yesterday.”

“Ben,” Hux said back, inclining his head. “No need to be concerned, I simply had to re-evaluate some of my plans. I expected to have Kylo Ren in this cell, not, well, you.”

Ben bit his lip and nodded. “I get it. I’m glad you came back.”

“Are you?” Hux raised an eyebrow. “You said you’d let me do anything to you if it meant my forgiveness. I want to test if you really mean that.”

“I do,” Ben insisted, a little too fervently. “Whatever you want, I swear.”

“All right. Sit down.”

Ben did and Hux approached, just slow enough to make Ben wait for it. He’d decided last night exactly what he’d do to test this, thinking back to the most pivotal moment. Hux was confident Ben wouldn’t kill him, this tame creature before him far too docile and broken for it, but he wasn’t sure if Ben would retaliate in some other way, whether intentionally or not. This would be the perfect test as well as the sweetest beginning for his revenge.

Hux reached the bed and looked down at Ben for a breath before reaching forward and wrapping a hand around Ben’s neck. He let Ben swallow once before tightening his grip, squeezing _hard_. Ben’s eyes widened, already shiny, as he looked up at Hux.

With his hand wrapped tight around Ben’s throat, cutting off his air, Hux couldn’t help but think back to the throne room. Ren had choked him and Hux was certain he’d only lived because he’d capitulated in time to save himself. Now, though, he was returning the favour and he knew Ben could stop him at any time, could kill him easily and yet, face turning red and tears spilling over, Ben just _let_ _him_.

Hux could no longer remember why he’d ever doubted how kriffing _satisfying_ this would be.

The room was silent save for the clicking of Ben’s throat, the desperate movements Hux could feel under his hand, a body begging for air but being denied. He watched as Ben’s body tensed and relaxed, his fists clenching and unclenching, tears finally trailing down his cheeks. Ren had been partial to crying too, but it seemed to come even easier to Ben. Hux liked that.

Ben’s eyes rolled back a little and one hand shot up to fumble at Hux’s wrist, finally managing to grip it. Hux tensed, ready, but did not move. However, Ben wasn’t fighting him, just holding on to his wrist, and the familiar static hum of the Force never came. Hux looked back to Ben’s face and found him staring up at him, eyes watery and dazed. He was just on the cusp of passing out. Hux felt dizzy with the rush of power.

Lids shuttering, Ben’s body spasmed, getting heavy in Hux’s grip, and that’s when Hux let go. Ben slumped against the wall behind his bed, heaving in air, his whole body shuddering and twitching as his brain came back online. He’d only been out for a moment, but it was enough.

Hux let him recover, watching with a carefully controlled expression. He didn’t want to show Ben just yet how much he’d enjoyed that; this was a test, after all. The entire point was to see just how much Ben would let him take.

After about a minute, Ben was finally breathing almost normally, managing to sit up on the bed again. His face was still red and he’d definitely have bruises around his throat tomorrow. Tears stained his cheeks and Hux relished in it, already thinking of all the other ways he could ruin Ben.

When Ben looked at Hux, there was still no retaliation, no fight in his eyes, no anger, nothing. Just that same eager openness from before, achingly soft. Hux couldn’t help smirking.

“Well, it seems you do mean it after all,” Hux said as Ben coughed, trying to clear his throat.

“Of course,” Ben managed, his voice wrecked; he winced as he swallowed. “I need to make things right, whatever it takes.”

It was like music to Hux’s ears. “Good. Now get on the floor, on your knees.”

Ben did so without hesitation. He was made for this, Hux thought, as he stepped closer. This is how things were meant to be between them. Ren had been blind but Ben, this soft, wounded creature, he understood, and how could Hux not take advantage of that?

He stepped closer and put a hand on his belt, emblazoned with a red diamond to match the new colour of the First Order logo he’d designed since taking over, proof the organization was _his_ now. Hux wanted to see what Ben would do, how he would react. Would he balk at this? Would he reluctantly agree?

Ben’s eyes flashed as he realized, the little ‘o’ shape of surprise his mouth had settled into breaking as he licked his lips. Hux was delighted.

“What an eager thing you are,” Hux praised, opening the belt proper and unzipping his fly. “Don’t you worry, I’ll give you the absolution you seek.”

The look in Ben’s eyes only got more desperate so Hux fed his cock in – he was already hard, choking Ben out being enough to get him there. Ben immediately wrapped his lips around the head, his tongue licking at the slit. Hux sighed and gripped Ben’s hair in one hand, still long and absolutely perfect as a handle to aid in taking his mouth.

He let Ben work for a while, bobbing his head with enthusiasm, tongue swirling, his cheeks hollowing as he sucked. Hux hissed through his teeth, marvelling at how good Ben apparently was at this. He had the lips for it, if nothing else, soft and big and obscene.

Eventually though, Hux wanted more, and he tightened his grip on Ben’s hair, shoving his hips forward suddenly and slipping into his throat. Ben’s eyes widened and he gagged a little, but, to his credit, didn’t move. Hux grinned down at him, sharp and dangerous, and pulled out before shoving forward again, hard and fast.

Ben’s throat must have ached from being choked only a few minutes ago but, just like then, he just _took_ it, letting Hux fuck right into his throat, even swallowing around him when Hux stayed deep. Hux couldn’t help a moan, his cock throbbing and his balls getting tight. He was close already.

“That’s right, Ben,” Hux said as he picked up the pace, Ben’s mouth just hanging open as Hux fucked it. “You’re doing so well. Let me take what I want. Let me absolve you.”

Ben hiccupped around his cock, his eyes getting wet again, and Hux groaned. It was such a perfect picture, and Ben’s hot, wet throat wrapped so tight around his cock felt so good. That, and knowing that Ben’s throat must’ve been raw by now, yet he still continued on, was all it took to nearly push Hux over the edge.

He pulled out at the last second, stroking himself hard and fast. Ben tipped his face up, looking at Hux with so much naked hope and need on his face, like Hux was his only chance for benediction. Hux moaned as he came, painting Ben’s face with streaks of come.

They were both panting in the aftermath, Hux feeling lighter than he had even when he’d first declared himself the unquestioned leader of the First Order. He was on his precious Finalizer, restoring her to working order, leading the movement he’d given his life to, with the man who’d nearly ruined him covered in come and saliva and tears at his feet. Yes, this was how it was meant to be.

Ben stared up at him and Hux smiled. “Very good, Ben. That was excellent. An extremely good first step towards making things up to me.”

Ben shuddered, relief washing over his features. “Thank you, Hux. Thank you for letting me try. No one – no one else would let me.”

“Don’t you worry,” Hux said, his smile turning knife-sharp. “I already have so many ideas for how you can truly make amends.”

Ben smiled back at him, almost comically sincere. Maybe this wasn’t exactly what Hux had envisioned, but stars, he was starting to think it was even better.

* * *

Curled on the floor, Ben groaned. He was crying again, salty trails staining his face and the floor of the cell. Hux retracted his foot, enjoying how it had felt to drive a booted toe repeatedly into Ben’s ribs and, even sweeter, to have Ben _let_ him. Vengeance for cracking his ribs in the shuttle on Crait, after all. It was only fair.

“Very good, Ben,” Hux said, falsely sweet, laced with hidden poison. “You’re doing so well.”

Ben coughed, carefully uncurling himself when Hux stayed still, seemingly done taking his anger out for the day. Hux just watched, Ben slowly sitting up to lean against the wall. Not out of fear, no, Ben never showed any fear other than the instinctual flinch here and there; it was only to be more comfortable.

“Thank you,” Ben said, his voice shuddery and unquestionably sincere.

Hux offered a sharp smile and then kneeled down, inspecting Ben’s face. He was a little flushed, his cheeks wet with his tears; it didn’t even take the drop of a pin these days, it seemed. Hux wondered, distantly, whether the Kylo Ren he’d known and loathed was still recoverable from the shell that was Ben.

Probably, he thought. But Hux had no intentions of ever trying. Ben was so much more… convenient than Ren.

He leaned forward and Ben stiffened, unsure and – hopeful? Hux came closer and closer until Ben could feel his breath, his lips just a hair away from Ben’s skin. He wondered what Ben thought he’d do. A bite? An insult? A _kiss_?

Hux did none of the above. He instead opened his mouth and pressed his tongue to Ben’s cheek, savouring the salt of his tears. Dragging upward, licking up the wetness, he both heard and felt Ben exhale sharply. It wasn’t a sound of distress.

“Delicious,” Hux whispered against Ben’s skin, feeling him shudder, and then switched to lick the other side of his face next.

Something about this lit a fire inside Hux and, when there were no tears left to chase and he pulled away, he found himself hungry for another reason. Staring Ben down as he decided, Hux then leaned forward again, claiming Ben’s lips with his own.

Ben froze for a fraction of a second, like his brain couldn’t quite keep up with what was happening, and then whimpered into the kiss, pushing forward. He was needy, even for this, and Hux felt a dark rush of desire wash over him. He smirked and then bit down on Ben’s lip.

Iron splashed into his mouth, mingling with the salt, and Ben whimpered again, but did not pull away, instead pushing into it. Hux couldn’t help the shudder that ran down his own spine. As a General before and now as the unquestioned leader of what remained of the First Order, he’d commanded so many operations, so many people. Hux had always loved power, sought it out wherever he could.

And now, in this moment, with Ben whimpering into his mouth even as Hux made him bleed, Hux felt almost as powerful as he had the day he’d fired Starkiller for the first and last time.

Something cracked inside him then, and before Hux knew it, he was running his hands up Ben’s chest, reaching under the plain sweater he wore to find skin he could feel and touch and _scratch_. Ben moaned softly into Hux’s mouth, pushing his chest forward into Hux’s harsh touch, eager yet utterly pliant. It was addictive.

Hux broke the kiss, nipping his way down Ben’s neck as his fingers found Ben’s nipples under the shirt, rubbing and pinching at them. Ben tilted his head to the side to give Hux more room, then gasped at the stimulation. Hux pinched them hard, twisting a little, and Ben cried out.

“Sensitive, are we?” Hux asked, his smirking face buried in the crook of Ben’s neck.

“Ah!” was all Ben could manage as Hux continued his assault on Ben’s nipples. “Yes, and it’s – it’s been so long.”

Humming, Hux pulled away, leaving Ben chasing after him for a moment before he stopped, remembering his place. “Strip for me.”

Ben didn’t hesitate, tearing off his sweater followed by his pants, underwear and all. His cock sprung out, already mostly hard and Hux raised an eyebrow, though Ben didn’t seem to notice. He really was an eager thing.

“Suck on your fingers,” Hux commanded, starting to remove his own belt. “Get them nice and wet. I want you to open yourself up for me.”

“Yes,” Ben said, taking his fingers into his mouth and doing just as Hux told him, shameless with want.

Next time, Hux mused as he watched and slowly undressed himself, he’d bring lube, but he hadn’t exactly expected it to escalate this far. A blowjob, high on power, was one thing, but he wanted more, wanted Ben fully and completely. He was so much different than Hux had been expecting, so perfect for his purposes. Ben was so much softer than Ren, so much more _breakable_.

And eager, as he shoved his fingers into himself with abandon, his cock twitching when he winced at the stretch. Hux watched, trying to hide his interest, but accepting that he was probably failing. There was a livid red mark on Ben’s ribs where Hux had kicked him plus a few more, all of which would surely bruise. Meanwhile, Ben was already up to two fingers, his eyes on Hux the whole time, wide and wanting, desire showing in his every feature.

Soon enough, Hux was nude and Ben declared himself ready, so Hux bent him over the cot, spitting into his hand and slicking up his cock with it. He pressed up against Ben’s hole, pushing in and hearing Ben’s breath catch. Stars, Ben would really let Hux do _anything_ to him, wouldn’t he?

Ben was tight, so tight, around him, his ass hot and just slick enough to make this work. It’d be better next time, when he had lube. Hux didn’t think about the fact that he was already planning to do this again, just focused on pushing in until his hips were flush against Ben’s ass, both of them exhaling deeply as Hux made it in.

He waited a moment, just until Ben fully relaxed, and then he pulled back, thrusting in and chasing the heat, the pressure, the power. Even just starting, Hux knew he wouldn’t last as long as he’d like, but he didn’t care. There would be other chances, in the future. He was certain of that.

Beneath him, Ben moaned with every thrust, his hands braced on the cot. He turned his head, enough for Hux to see his face, and he was flushed, those doe-eyes lidded with pleasure and pain, a hint of shine in them. Fuck, he was so perfect like this.

“You love it, don’t you?” Hux asked, thrusting in harder, reaching down to stroke Ben’s cock in time with his thrusts.

“Yes!” Ben cried out, half a groan, his hips stuttering back against Hux’s at the increased stimulation. “I do! Please don’t stop.”

“Poor thing.” Hux couldn’t stop talking even if he wanted to, too close to orgasm now, flying too high on the rush of having his former rival like this. “So eager, so desperate. Don’t you worry, I’ll give you what you need.”

Hux punctuated that with a harder thrust and Ben’s voice cracked on his next moan, whether from the stimulation or the words, Hux didn’t know. It didn’t matter either way, really. Pace increasing again, Hux took his pleasure, and it didn’t take long before he came, leaning over Ben to bite hard into his shoulder as he did.

Ben came pretty much immediately after, noisily and messily. Hux, still floating high on the aftershocks, rutted in one last time with his softening cock, then pulled out, panting a little as he recovered and stepped back. Kriff, that had been worth it.

Hux was already getting dressed when he heard Ben mumble something just too quiet to hear. “What was that?”

Ben flushed, a flash of frustration on his face – clearly directed at himself, like it always seemed to be now. He was pointedly looking down at the mattress, still naked. He bit his lip, hesitating.

“I wanted to say thank you,” Ben said, but Hux could hear there was more.

“Was that all?” Hux asked, when Ben didn’t continue after a few moments.

“Uh, yeah,” he said, wincing a little as he stood and grabbed his clothes. “Just thanks, nothing more.”

“All right.” Hux knew Ben was hiding something, but he didn’t want to push yet.

There was too much risk involved. Much as Ben had proven himself to be sincere, to be happy to submit to Hux’s wishes as his chosen form of penance, Hux still felt the need to be wary. Was it possible for him to snap, for there to be a Ren-shaped relapse? Even one brief slip of such could result in Hux’s death. It was too risky for now.

Another time, he thought. Ben would break eventually, being so vulnerable and having no one else to talk to. Hux had all the time in the world. At this moment, feeling lighter after the violence and sex, it even slipped Hux’s mind that he was planning to have Ben publicly executed eventually.

* * *

Hux visited Ben a few more times, giving pain and taking pleasure, and through it all, Ben did nothing to stop him, submitted eagerly, all but begged Hux to do whatever he wished if it would absolve his sins. It was even better than Hux could’ve dreamed. It was hard to believe he’d ever been disappointed to have Ben in this cell instead of Ren.

He’d been watching, too, cataloguing the differences and similarities. Ren had always been a raw nerve, set off by even just the slightest stimuli, and Ben was too, but differently. He was emotional, obviously, but cried more frequently than he yelled, and he never lashed out. There was still that temper, flashes of anger Hux had spotted, but he always seemed to direct it at himself, never at Hux or anyone else. He spoke a lot about how others wouldn’t let him make amends where Hux would, but he didn’t even seem angry with them. It was an odd but welcome change.

The crying, of course, was a Ren behaviour as well, but on Ben it was almost his default response, like the triggers for his anger and his tears had been switched when he changed from Ren to Ben. Ben even cried when he was happy, it seemed, and weepy smiles were something Hux saw a lot of. He quite liked the way they looked on Ben’s softer face.

There was still a piece of the puzzle missing, though. Hux thought it was whatever Ben had not said after Hux had fucked him the first time, but he wasn’t certain. Neither pain nor sex – though the latter was slowly starting to comprise the bulk of their visits rather than the former, something Hux did not let himself think about – seemed to bring it out again. Hux very much wanted to know.

He was in the cell with Ben again, the mystery of the missing piece swirling through his mind again. The kit of torture implements lay untouched on the table, forgotten, while Hux sat in the chair he’d brought in while Ben stayed on the cot. Ben was making idle conversation, asking Hux about his day, but Hux was barely participating.

Ren had always hated his past, said he’d killed it. Hux had seen it first hand, had seen how Ren was anything but the legacy his blood had set out for him. Much as Hux had hated Ren, there had been a part of him that respected that, respected not letting one’s lineage define them. Ren had shown nothing but distaste for his own in a way Hux could do nothing but admire.

But now, here he was, pathetic, sad, good little boy Ben Solo again. What had made that happen? Hux could perhaps understand the defection, turning on the Order, turning on Palpatine especially. But to take back the name that represented everything Ren had worked so hard not to be, the one he’d so despised? He’d said something about making amends at first, but Hux still didn’t understand why the name mattered for that.

He had to know. “Ben, I’d like you to answer something for me.”

Ben blinked, looking surprised but not concerned. “Of course.”

“Why ‘Ben’?” Hux asked carefully. Despite Ben showing repeatedly he was not going to magically transform into Ren again, Hux suspected this was a sore spot. “I know how you used to feel about that name. Why take it back?”

Ben’s eyes widened for a moment and then he bit his lip, looking away. “I already told you. I wanted to make amends. I thought maybe Ben could do that where Kylo couldn’t.”

“There must be more to it than that,” Hux pressed, still on alert just in case. “What does the name matter? If you didn’t want to be Kylo Ren, that doesn’t mean you had to be Ben again. You could have taken any name in the galaxy.”

There was a pause and then Ben sighed heavily. “It’s just… Everyone always wanted me to be Ben. There was always this image of what Ben Solo was supposed to be, but that wasn’t who I was. So I became Kylo Ren. I thought that would make it better, but I don’t even know if the Kylo Ren I became was really me or just some version of it twisted by Snoke and Palpatine. I lost whoever I was. I didn’t even know who I was. I still don’t. Maybe I never even had a self, just became what someone else wanted me to be every time.”

Ben shifted uncomfortably, stretching the sleeves of his sweater down over his hands and balling them into lose fists. “But it didn’t make it better. In the end, I was alone with my actions and their consequences. You were dead, or so I thought. My Knights were far away most of the time and they’re dead now too. All that was left were the people who wanted me to be Ben. Or some of them, at least.”

Hux leaned forward, forgetting his caution. It was starting to come together now, the image of exactly how Kylo Ren had been broken. It went even deeper than Hux had suspected.

“I thought if I could just be Ben, if I could just be what they all wanted me to be, maybe they’d finally want me. Maybe if I just did what they wanted me to, they’d want me,” Ben paused, swallowing; his eyes were wet again. “I always thought I just wanted to be me. But I think what I really wanted was to be _wanted_ as me. And I never was. I thought Ben would be enough, but they still…”

Ben cut off, sniffling a little, and Hux took it in. All this, this entire reversal of identity, was just to be _wanted_. No, that wasn’t quite right, even if that’s what Ben said. He wanted to be _loved_. And he was giving up who he’d tried to be in the hopes of getting it.

If Hux were a kinder person, he’d have thought it tragic. But Hux was not, so all he could see was potential to take advantage of. He suppressed a smile.

“They wouldn’t even let Ben make amends, so I just… didn’t know what to do. The guilt was consuming me. All I did just to try to get something I never found. But then you…” Ben paused again, finally looking back at Hux. “You would let me. You’re the only one who would let me make amends.”

“I want you,” Hux said, echoing what Ben meant while also telling him what he wanted to hear. “And I want you as Ben. Is that what you see?”

Ben’s wet eyes were burning, hungry, the words having the exact effect Hux had expected. “Yes. You hated me as Kylo Ren. But like this? You hurt me, but for a purpose. You’re letting Ben make amends, just like I’d hoped someone would. You even _looked for me_ while everyone else was content to pretend I was dead.”

The final piece had fallen into place and Hux couldn’t be more pleased with it. Ben wasn’t just broken, he’d been shattered. So desperate to be wanted, to be loved, he’d changed who he was over and over again, finally ending up back at the start when every persona failed to fulfill his needs. And he’d chosen to lay this final, fragmented self at Hux’s feet, desperate for succor. He must have realized, somewhere in there, that Hux was the worst person he could’ve gone to for such, but desperation made fools out of most. No wonder he was so happy to let Hux have his way with him.

“I understand,” Hux said, finally standing and approaching Ben. “And don’t you worry, I’ll make sure to turn you into what I want.”

The sex that followed was different than the other times. Hux was still rough, as was his way, but there was something else building in his chest, a hot, dangerous feeling he didn’t want to admit to. Ben was sobbing again, grateful words slipping out of his mouth in between cries and moans. The feeling grew and swelled, demanding attention.

Ben wanted to be wanted, whatever it took, even if it meant tearing apart and remaking his very self more than once, any concept of who he really was lost to that aching want. Hux wanted power and control, and to take and take and _take_. Like this, so desperate, so broken, so malleable, Ben was even more appealing than he’d ever been. He was downright perfect for taking.

“You’re mine,” Hux growled in Ben’s ear as he came, not meaning to have said it out loud.

Ben all but screamed, coming even without Hux’s hand on him. Hux’s orgasm was equally spectacular and it took him a while to come down, entire galaxies blooming behind his eyes before his ability to think returned. Finally, after Hux had his mind back in order, he realized Ben was still crying, but his expression was different. He looked _happy_.

“Thank you,” Ben managed between sobs, almost incoherent. “That’s all I ever wanted.”

Hux knew he should’ve been feeling cold panic for showing his hand like that, or even disgust, because of Ben’s display of emotion, but he didn’t. The possessiveness – for he could admit its name now – flared again, demanding, consuming. Ben _was_ his, to do with as he pleased. If Hux told him he was making amends, Ben would agree. If Hux told him he was forgiven, Ben would agree. Ben would do and believe _anything_ he said at this point.

Ben truly was _his_.

Maybe Ben didn’t have to die. After all, he wasn’t Ren anymore; the man Hux had been so set on torturing and killing might as well have been dead, considering who Ben was now. Ben was so pliable and willing. Why couldn’t he be a lovely little pet, eager to serve and be debased however Hux liked, instead?

“You’ve done so well for me, Ben. Get dressed and follow me,” Hux said, after putting on his own clothes. “You’ll be staying in my quarters from now on.”

Ben looked shocked, but then beamed and Hux couldn’t imagine a better way this could’ve turned out.

Moving Ben into Hux’s quarters went flawlessly. Ben was so happy, so grateful, seeing it as a sign that his wish to have Hux forgive him was coming true. And in truth, it was. As much as Ben was so far removed from Kylo Ren that Hux could barely see them as the same person, being able to work out his anger on Ben had all but extinguished that fire in Hux. And owning Ben, in body and soul, as he was now working towards? Well, that was the sweetest victory of all.

Ben stayed put in Hux’s quarters unless Hux told him otherwise, keeping himself busy with holos and the like while Hux worked. Sometimes, despite Ben proving his intentions, Hux would give him little tasks, menial, demeaning things, like cleaning his quarters when droids were available for the express purpose of doing so, just to see what he’d do. Every time, Ben obeyed eagerly, jumping to do whatever Hux asked. He didn’t even seem to mind, was simply happy to help.

It was a staggering difference from Ren, but Hux was not about to complain. Their interactions had shifted, too, with Ben sleeping in his bed every night. They had sex most days and Ben let Hux treat him as rough as he wanted, and Hux couldn’t get enough of it. There was something so intoxicating about slapping Ben across the face while thrusting into him and watching him do nothing but moan and present his cheek for more.

Then there were the other nights, the ones Hux spent working late or simply just relaxing with Ben dozing in his lap, stroking through that silk-soft hair like Ben was some enormous, pampered pet. Despite himself, Hux was starting to see Ben as less a prisoner, an outlet for his anger and frustration, and more as a _possession_. He could keep Ben. There was no one to stop him, especially not Ben himself, and what better symbol of his rule than a cowed version of the previous leader? The thought thrilled Hux, though for more reasons than just that.

He wanted that, Hux decided, and so he returned to Ben after his shift one day with a plan in mind. Ben looked up from his holonovel as Hux walked in, smiling as he always did, like Hux was salvation given human form. Hux loved that look on him.

“Darling,” Hux said, the pet name slipping out more and more often lately, “there’s something I want to give you.”

Ben cocked his head, looking confused but excited. “You want to give me something?”

“Yes.” Hux’s lips curled into a small, pleased smile. “You like it here, right? With me?”

Ben nodded quickly. “Of course. You’ve given me what no one else would.”

“Good,” Hux said, truly pleased and letting Ben hear it. “I want to give you a mark, proof that you’re mine. A gift for both of us, really.”

“A permanent mark?” Ben asked wonderingly.

“Yes, exactly.” Hux paused to pull out his favourite knife, not the one he still kept in his sleeve, but the one he kept in his bedside drawer, and a medkit. “I don’t want there to be any doubts. You belong to me.”

Ben looked at him with wide, liquid eyes. There wasn’t a hint of doubt or insecurity about this; no, he wanted it as badly as Hux did. He looked positively _worshipful_.

“Yes,” he said, breathy but assured. “Please.”

Hux gave him another smile. “Lay on the bed, Ben. On your stomach. Shirt off.”

He hurried to do exactly as Hux asked, as he always did. That pleased, possessive feeling inside Hux flared again as he climbed up onto the bed, looking at Ben giving his flesh over so easily. There was a word for what Hux was feeling, but he couldn’t bring himself to think it. Not yet.

“This will hurt,” Hux said, planning out the design in his head. “I’ll need you to keep still for me and I won’t be able to give you bacta, just regular bandages. It’ll all be pointless if it doesn’t scar.”

“I don’t mind,” Ben said, completely earnest. “It’s proof that you want me.”

“Yes, it is.”

And that’s what it really came down to, wasn’t it? Ben wanted so desperately to be wanted that he’d destroyed and rebuilt his entire self more than once in his quest for it. And here was Hux, aspiring to be Emperor, the one who wanted to own and keep and rule everything. Hux’s affections were sharp enough to draw blood, but Ben was happy to bleed for him, desperate to be close enough to be cut in the first place. It was so simple, so inevitable, when broken down like that.

Hux pushed that line of thought away, instead climbing up to sit on Ben’s plush ass and focusing on the swath of bare skin before him, given in offering. He could already see it, carved out, red lines against pale flesh. It would be beautiful. It would mark Ben as _his_.

The only warning he gave was resting the tip of the blade against Ben’s back, giving him a moment to breathe, and then Hux cut in, drawing a sharp line. Ben gasped, delayed. The blade was sharp, so sharp he wouldn’t have felt the cut at first. Hux had already moved on to the next by the time the gasp came.

Hux continued, the short, sharp lines coming quickly yet precisely. Ben hissed, limbs trembling a little, but he kept his back absolutely still. Hux gently hushed him, telling him how well he was doing, such a good and still boy. That had the desired effect; Ben melted immediately.

Hux had plans for two parts and as he finished the first, he sat back a little to admire his work. The wounds were slow to bleed given the sharpness of Hux’s knife but now there were beads of blood welling up all over, blurring the shape of the lines. Hux could see it, though, knew exactly what it would look like as a scab and then a scar. His work, as always, was flawless.

“Good boy,” Hux praised, adjusting his position so he could carve a little lower. “Just one more part now, okay?”

Ben made an assenting noise, breathing through gritted teeth, his fists clenched in the sheets with the effort of staying still. He did not move, though, not even when Hux pressed the knife to him again, carving another line, feeling the suppressed shudder that went through Ben when the pain hit again. Hux was so proud.

This part was more straight forward, though the curves were difficult. Hux was patient though, and precise, and soon enough, there it was, the finished design, marred only by the blood welling up. Blood ran down from above, too, the first part all but obscured. Reaching over to grab the medkit, Hux cleaned the blood off and paused to take in his completed work

_Armitage Hux_

His name, followed by the First Order symbol. “Hand me my datapad.”

Ben did, grabbing it from the bedside table and giving it over to Hux. Hux quickly snapped a picture before the blood obscured his work again, then got to work applying the bandages. Under him, Ben hissed a little at the pressure, but otherwise did not complain.

Once Hux was done, he climbed off Ben to sit beside him. “There we are. Would you like to see?”

Ben tentatively rolled on his side, careful not to aggravate the fresh wounds on his back. “Yes.”

Hux pulled up the picture he’d taken and turned the datapad so Ben could see it. There was a moment of silence, Ben staring wide-eyed, and then he gasped. For a split second, Hux wondered if he’d miscalculated after all, despite all the signs he hadn’t.

Ben immediately rushed forward, wrapping his arms around Hux and pressing his face into Hux’s chest. Taken aback, Hux returned the embrace hesitantly. Much as he’d done this primarily for himself, Hux had known Ben sought being wanted and loved, and thus any symbol he interpreted to mean such would have an effect on him. However, it seemed Hux had underestimated just how powerful that effect would be.

“Thank you, Hux.” Ben’s words were muffled by Hux’s tunic and Hux moved one hand to pet through his hair. “Thank you so much, thank you.”

“You’re welcome, my dear,” Hux said, pulling Ben a little closer now that he’d gotten his bearings back. “You know what it means, right?”

Ben nodded and Hux felt what must have been Ben’s tears soak through the fabric. “That you want me.”

Hux smiled down at Ben. “That’s right, darling.”

“That I’m finally what someone wanted me to be.” Ben paused to take a deep breath, hiccupping a little as he tried to keep from sobbing. “That you want to keep me. That you _love_ me.”

Hux froze for a second. That was… not what he’d planned to say. Love made people weak; Hux didn’t even know if he was capable of such an emotion. Yes, love was probably what Ben felt when he looked at Hux, but the source of that was his own insecurity and desperation, nothing more.

He thought back to what he’d felt earlier, when Ben had offered his skin to him. That heavy, possessive, pleasant feeling that swelled inside him. He felt it now, too, with Ben’s blood only freshly cleaned from his hands, Ben shaking in his arms, so _grateful_ for what Hux had just done to him. That wasn’t love, at least according to stories. But maybe, just maybe, this was Hux’s version of it. Maybe that was the name of the emotion he’d felt earlier but had refused to classify.

“You know, Ben,” Hux said, slowly, testing the words even as he said them, “you’re right. It does mean I love you.”

Ben crumpled even further, pushing against Hux like he was trying to become one with him. Hux continued to stroke his hair, to feel the way Ben’s chest heaved, his breath struggling to stay steady under the force of his emotion, losing the fight against sobbing. The emotions he felt _because_ of Hux.

Perhaps love was the right word after all.

“Love you, too,” Ben managed, and Hux smiled, sharp but genuine.

* * *

After carving his name and symbol into Ben and Ben had managed to calm down, Hux had given him another gift: a collar, soft and supple, made of the finest leather that could be found. Ben had looked at it with awe, running his fingers over it like he couldn’t believe it was real. Then he’d kneeled for Hux and bared his throat, allowing Hux to put it on him. They’d both shivered when the final clasp was set and Hux pulled his hands back.

Ben had ridden Hux that night, even more passionate than he’d been before. What Ben sought, Hux had managed to provide when no one else would: to be wanted, kept, and loved, no matter what the cost. Hux, in turn, had no intentions of letting him go. Ever.

The collar never came off again and Ben seemed happy with that, like it was a constant physical reminder of who he belonged to. He couldn’t see his own back, after all, though Hux had caught him admiring the marks in the mirror as they’d healed, sneaking peaks whenever he could as soon as the bandages had come off. The sex stayed rough, but Ben was somehow, impossibly, even more eager for it. He didn’t care if Hux’s love left him with blood in his mouth, for Hux was always there to lick it up.

It was after the wounds had healed and scarred that Hux took to taking Ben with him sometimes, his lovely pet to show off however he liked. Ben seemed to enjoy it too, took pride in being something worth showing off. As for the officers of the Finalizer, well, it just made them both respect and fear Hux more, which was nothing but a boon.

It became normal so quickly and Hux chuckled whenever he remembered that he’d originally planned to kill Ben, even after finding out that he was no longer Kylo Ren. He’d been so short-sighted then. This was a much better outcome.

On this cycle, Hux had returned from his shift, elated at the progress the Order was making, and taken Ben to bed, full of energy and high on the feeling of impending conquest. It’d been rough, Hux feeling like a predator who’d just found the best prize and Ben just _took_ it, even begged for more, like he always did. Hux fucked him hard, bit him, smacked him, even spit in his mouth. Ben had taken it all, even swallowed Hux’s saliva like it was a gift.

Now they were both finished, laying comfortably in bed. Ben was lounging with his upper body in Hux’s lap, one of Hux’s hands petting through his hair and occasionally tugging on his collar with the other scrolling through messages on his datapad. There would be bruises by morning, Hux could see, and he smiled at the thought as Ben shifted a little, humming happily as he relaxed, completely at ease. His scars stood out, too, indelible proof that he belonged to Hux and no one else.

Hux’s mind wandered, shifting away from the messages that were starting to blur together and heading towards the future. At first, when he’d started this venture, Hux hadn’t been sure he could succeed. The First Order was too damaged, too many were dead, and his old enemy – Kylo Ren – could still be out there. But that hadn’t stopped him, figuring that if he couldn’t achieve his dreams, at least he could die knowing he’d made the Republic hurt first.

Now, though, with the Order growing, planets starting to fall in line with them, Hux realized that perhaps he’d sold himself short. Soon, they’d have enough power to begin attacking in earnest rather than slinking around in the shadows of the Outer Rim and, this time, with Hux at the helm, maybe they really could succeed. The mistakes of the past would not be repeated. As long as he played his cards right and continued to be patient, the future still could still belong to Hux and the First Order.

And then there was Ben, once the great Supreme Leader Ren, now Hux’s darling pet. Was he not proof of Hux’s success, his judgement? The Republic had left Ben to rot but Hux had seen a future for him, just as he saw a future for all the forgotten, broken parts of the galaxy.

He could see it now: a throne, a crown, all of it. Hux would be Emperor, ruling over his empire, finally bringing peace and order to a galaxy that had tasted nothing but pain and chaos for too long. And right there, next to him, his precious Ben, collared and kneeling next to Hux’s throne, happy simply to be there. What better symbol of Hux’s domination of the galaxy could there be?

Yes, Hux’s dreams were still in reach, he was sure of that now. For the moment, though, Hux turned off his datapad, deciding the rest of his messages could wait until morning came again. Ben looked up, blinking sleepily, and Hux smiled at him. Yes, it had all come together so perfectly. The future was his to claim but, for now, Hux was happy to curl up with Ben in his arms, knowing he’d be able to keep him forever, just as Ben so desperately wanted.

**Author's Note:**

> Come hang out with me on [twitter](http://twitter.com/kyluxtrashpit/) or [tumblr](http://kyluxtrashpit.tumblr.com/) too
> 
> And the artist can be found on [twitter](http://twitter.com/metastatiic/) as well


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